The Holy War
by southernslasher
Summary: Dean has to become everything he hates most to save the ones he loves. Eventual Destiel
1. Chapter 1: Born To Run

**Writers Note: **Please feel free to message me with ideas or suggestions

**Chapter 1: Born To Run**

"I don't even know what I'm doing anymore." Dean whispered, staring at his ceiling.

"…I'm no god-damn hero." He growled, in a sudden wave disgust and anger.

He was alone, not just in his room, but in everything else. He had been spending his nights like this for while now, sleeping only for about an hour then waking up and drowning himself in thoughts of guilt for another four. It wasn't healthy, he knew it, but he didn't care.

'I should've done something…I shouldn't have waited so long to tell Sam…something, _any_thing…and maybe that kid would still be here', his thoughts were spinning. He had been beating himself about Kevin and Tara lately, though usually it was Kevin. He couldn't even bring himself to say his name anymore, but like clockwork, it triggered the memory of that night on the bridge. He tried to resist but it forced its way back into his thoughts anyway:

"I was willing to die. And now..._Kevin_", Sam rasped. Dean's expression grew hard at the memory, He hated being constantly reminded how easily his little brother took to the idea of death. He heard his own voice drag forward," …Kevin's blood is on my hands. And that ain't ever getting clean. I'll burn for that. I will." He knows that now more than ever.

He started rushing through the memory; each word now hitting him like a train."…I'll find Gadreel and I will end that son of a bitch. But I'll do it alone…", he could hear himself say, "can't you see, I'm poison. People get close to me they get killed, or worse. I tell myself I help more people than I hurt and I tell myself that I'm doing it all for the right reasons and I believe that. But I can't - I won't drag anybody into the muck with me - not anymore."

Dean was clenching his jaw now; trying to stop the rush of emotions that were threatening to break him again. He tried to clear the memory but he still managed to hear the faint echo of Sam's answer, "…Go. I'm not going to stop you. But don't go thinking that's the problem because it's not." He could still see their faces, the look that confirmed that he was on his own.

He is the problem. He is_ poison_. Those who don't die, he deceives. Those who he deceives, he loses. It's that simple. He used to tell himself he was doing the right thing, and for a moment, he believed it. Now it's nothing more than a bullshit excuse he uses to convince himself to get up in the morning, because in the end, Sam was right…he just doesn't want to be alone. And now, He felt like he just lost Sam and Cas all over again. And even though Sam did come back, it doesn't help that Cas is still god knows where. Sam said he left suddenly and he looked startled, saying nothing except that it was "urgent".

Dean looked empty. He lied like that for a couple more minutes before he sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He checked the clock: 5:00 am. He groaned, dragged his hand across his face, and chose to get ready anyway. After all, he still has to keep up appearances for Sammy. "…And Cas, if he ever decides to get his ass back here." he added aloud, as he pushed himself off the bed. It was vain attempt, but he voiced it just in case Cas was listening.

* * *

When Sam entered the library he found Dean reading…wait…no, _that cant be right_…he tried to blink to see if it was an illusion. But Satan was not toying with his mind this time, it was really Dean, and that was really a book in his hands. Sure Dean skims over articles and books for quick information, but never actually _reads._ Over all, He was just relived to see he wasn't in his usual state of perpetual brooding; the one in which he is slumped over in a chair, slowly turning a blade between his hands, and staring at it as if it was going to tell him all the answers to his problems. A small smile formed on his lips at the rare sight and with an air of amusement he silently strode beside him and teased, "what _are_ you doing?"

Dean had dropped the book, jumped up, and faced him in one swift move. He hated being snuck up on but he had relaxed as soon as he realized it was Sam. Dean snatched up the pile of notes and patted the small stack against the chest of his incredibly confused brother, "I got us a case, _partner_!" he exclaimed sarcastically as he slid by. Dean had been deliberately not using the words "Sammy" or "little brother" since Sam's 'we're not brothers' speech. Sam just ignored it, his hand went up to catch the papers and he was now combing though the words. Dean strode to the table, opened up the computer, and turned it toward Sam. "there been some disappearances nearby that look like our territory"

"And what's this?" Sam gestured at the papers.

"It's a list of people who claimed to have seen the monster and some ideas of what it could be, but there's not much to go off of."

"Ok-ay", Sam said, a little suspicious.

"Don't act like it's a big surprise, I'm tired of just sitting here waiting to hear news from Crowley about that damn blade." It was mostly true, he _was_ tired of doing nothing, but he also needed a distraction from the guilt that was starting to drive him insane.


	2. Chapter 2: Black Dog

**Chapter 2: Black Dog**

[Dean enters restaurant wearing FBI suit]

Dean approached the hostess, "You know where I can find a _Daniel Kline_?"

"Daniel? Yea, he's working the bar", she replied. She looked up and smiled when she got a good look of him. She continued, "the bars just over there", and she pointed in its direction.

Dean played along and gave her a playful smile back, "Thanks", he said as he glided by.

Dean approached the bar first, "You Daniel?" he asked while he situated himself onto on of the barstools.

"Far as I know.", he looked up, "Who's asking?"

[He pulled out his badge] "I just want to ask you a few questions about last Sunday." Dean answered.

He looked incredibly tired all of a sudden. "Yea, Alright…what do want to know?"

"Everything, from the beginning, and–uh–don't worry if it sounds a little _strange_", Dean assured.

"Ok", Daniel straightened up, now slightly interested, "…Well me and my friend Eric were hiking up on highland trail and we were about half way up when I noticed that there was some girl standing off the path about 200ft away from us. She was alone, ya know, so I tried to ask if she was lost but she just ran away. I figured she ran because she was scared and it was getting dark, so I told my buddy that we should go find her and make sure she can find her way back" he paused and looked away, "We'd been going in the direction she ran off in for about ten minutes when—when I heard these weird noises that sounded like "Tik"s, we stopped. Eric suggested we should turn back and call someone to get her instead, but it was getting dark and I didn't want to just leave her there so I said 'couple more minutes then we can head back'. We had barely taken a few steps when we heard the "Tik"ing again, but it was much closer this time. Then this_ thing_ just came out of nowhere. It looked - It was like something out of a horror film. I was staring at the thing one moment, and the next thing you know, Eric's gone and I'm waking up surrounded by rangers a day later"

"It says in the report you were found in a state of "paranoia and _manic_._"(_What the _hell_ did that mean_)_ Care to elaborate?"

"Police said I sounded crazy when they found me, said I wouldn't let anyone come close to me for hours. Kept saying something about "red eyes"…don't remember saying it though."

"Is there _any_thing else you remember about the thing that attacked you?" Dean pressed, now exasperated.

"I mean the doctors said the thing I saw was caused by trauma, that it must have been some bear or some-"

"No, I know, but could you tell me what you thought you saw?" Dean cut in, a little impatient.

"Um, ok,", a little hesitant, "well like I said…it was covered in fur, its eyes were red, and blood-shot. I think I remember it having wings…but the thing I won't ever forget was its face. It had the features of like a dog but the face of a dead person," he was struggling with the words out now, "it-it's face looked disfigured, mangled, like It'd been dead for weeks."

"Well, thanks man, you've been a big help." Dean assured with a tight smile as he slid of the stool.

Dean pulled out his phone as he made his way to the exit.

* * *

[Sam is in a suit and is sitting in front of a young girl in a home]

"So you didn't see anything else, anything out of the ordinary?" Sam encouraged.

"No, I'm sorry, that's all I remember" she was still frightened but she looked genuinely sorry she couldn't be of more help.

"You did great," he ensured with a small smile, "Thank you."

Sam got up and walked to the door, her mother followed. "Thank you Officer, for listening, the others treat her statement as a joke." She told Sam.

"Just doing my job," Sam said as he stepped on the porch. He turned around and added, "And if she remembers anything else, just contact me" He hands her his card. His phone begins to ring; he looks down and looks at the screen, 'DEAN'. He looks up and the mother gives a quiet thank you as she closes the door and Sam gives her a quick tight-smile back as he flips open his phone.

Dean's voice comes almost immediately: "So nothing but Frankenstein _the frickin' flying werewolf_ on your end too?" as he opened the door of the impala and ducked in.

"Yup, all the vic's descriptions match up. I mean, it's definitely our kind of thing, Dean, but I don't know what the hell we're dealing with." Sam voice now slightly worried. He hated coming across something new.

"Well", he let out an frustrated sigh, "let's head back to the batcave and see if we can find anything in the journals" He thought they would've figured out what it was _hours_ _ago_, and that they'd already be hunting the damn thing.

* * *

[In the Bunker, Sam is on his laptop. Dean enters holding a mass of journals]

Dean walks towards the table and dramatically drops the stack next to Sam's laptop "Well there's nothing in the _damn journals_." He said with an irritated tone. He slumped down in the chair across from Sam. "Any luck online?"

Sam sighed, "Its just so many descriptions at once – I just – I don't know how where going to catch this one, Dean" And as if to reply, his phone begins to ring. Sam answers, "hello? Yes…Thank you, Officer. We're on our way." He closed the phone and turned to Dean "Looks like we might get some answers after all."

"Who was that?" Dean asked.

"I told one of the police officers that if any of the vic's bodies turn up, to call me." Sam replied.

Dean tried not to sound too impressed, but failed. "Good call."

* * *

[The two approach the receptionist and flash their badges]

"We're here about the body that came in a couple hours ago" Sam explained.

"The medical examiner is just finishing the autopsy", she pointed towards the door, "right through there".

[Sam and Dean enter the corner's room]

"You boys here about the body we just found?"

"Yea, wha'cha got for us?" Dean answered.

"Well, it's definitely a weird one. He is completely drained of all blood, like it got sucked out. His heart and liver are missing, and judging by these lacerations right here, it was ripped out in one sudden move using only one hand. "

"Well…at least he went quick." Dean murmured.

"Not quite," she walked over and pointed at one of the screens in the lab," You see this? This shows abnormally high levels of glucocorticoid and norepinephrine in his system. The amount released indicates that he was under extreme psychological stress right before he died."

They asked her a few more questions, thanked her, and left.

* * *

[Back at the bunker Deans pacing while holding a beer and Sam's scrolling through something on his laptop]

"Think I got something", Sam said still reading, "Here…'Aswangs are shape-shifters and part vampire, They are fast and silent, Stories recount Aswangs living as regular townspeople, quiet, shy and elusive. At night, they transform into creatures such as a cat, bat, bird, boar or most often, a dog. They fed on humans, favoring livers and hearts'", he scrolls down, "'They are described to have red eyes, and blood shot, due too staying up all night looking for prey'", he skims forward,"…'and those who encounter one have said to become depressed and suffered from madness.'" He finished, sounding proud.

"A _what_, an _Ass-Wang_? Dean said while making a face, then added jokingly, "You've been looking at my Asian busty beauties magazines again, haven't you?"

Sam threw him a bitch-face "Not funny, Dean. Aswangs are things of legend all around the world," Sam said, now switching into what Dean described as 'full geek-mode', "and in many cultures it's considered to be the most feared" he turned the screen towards Dean, displaying the painting of an Aswang.

"_Jesus_, it looks like Hell played spin the wheel and hit the jack pot", Dean took another sip of his beer, "So how do we kill the son of a bitch?"

"Well, get this, 'an Aswang is most vulnerable in its human form because they do not have the excessive strength that they posses when they are in animal form. Things that have been known to cause harm to Aswangs are: Garlic, salt, holy water, stingray tail, silver swords and other silver items,'" He paused, " The only problem is, apparently, they have no trouble blending in with the rest of the crowd." He continued "the only thing we have to go on is this: 'Aswangs are uncharacteristically beautiful, tall, fair skinned, and you'll know your in the presence of one if your reflection in their eyes is upside down"

"_Awesome_." Dean said, right before downing the rest of his beer, "Where do we start"

* * *

[The two are getting out of the impala]

"This is stupid, Dean." Sam said as he closed the passenger door.

"Hey, you said they're described as incredibly beautiful women. I asked around, and they all agree that the girl who works here is the prettiest girl in town." he was smiling. "Plus it's not like you have any better ideas"

Sam sighed in defeat, why the hell did he ever follow Dean's plans. And why did they have to end with the words 'strip club'. They stepped through the door, "So what'd you say her name was, again!?" Sam shouted, so he could be heard over the music.

"Rachel", he yelled back as he made his way towards one of the women. "Excuse me, do you know where I can find a girl named Rachel?"

"Come on, you look like you have way too much on your mind. Maybe I can help", she grabbed his tie playfully will pushing him back, "when's the last time you've been to a strip club, let loose, have a little fun."

Sam looked up at his distracted brother, and muttered "typical." Time to take matters into his own hands. Not wanting to get sucked in by the dancers like Dean, he asked the bartender, "Hey, You don't happen to know where I can find a Rachel, do you?" The bartender pointed her out and Sam said a quick "Thanks" and made his way over to her.

Dean was now pressed against the wall, being trapped by her hand on his chest. She was right, he was stressed. He couldn't remember the last time he was in a strip club - wait - yes he could, it was when he went with Cas. Dean was on a mission to get him laid but Cas was - well..._Cas_. He sent that girl running off before he, much too Dean's relief, even got his clothes off. He smiled at the recollection of Cas's confused expression. The feeling of the hand rubbing his thigh dragged him away from his thoughts. He was suddenly not in the mood. He moved her hand away, she said "Ah…I see, what's his name?"

"Cas" he breathed, without thinking; Starting to untangle him from her.

"Well he is one lucky guy," she said, but before Dean could correct her she added "Rachel's over there." and pointed towards a tall blonde that was now talking with Sam.

"Shit." Dean cursed as he saw Sam's smug face walking towards him

"Real good police work there Dean."

"Shut up" And continued "is it her?"

Sam shook his head, "Sadly, no" He smiled again, "but hey, if you'd like, you can stay, you really seem to fit in well here"

"_Sam_" Dean warned

"Fine," Sam gave in, "so what now?"

"Well" Dean said while rubbing the back of his neck "Let's head back to the bunker and tomorrow we'll swing by the station to see if there's any other evidence we can go off of"

* * *

(Sam and Dean enter the police station, the Sargent is bent over at his desk looking through some papers)

They walked up to the Sargent

"Any new info on what's been snatching the good people of Beloit, Sarg? Dean asked.

"Well, agents, your in luck. We did find something", The Sargent looked up; his eyes were blood shot.

Sam and Dean immediately tensed up. Sam tried to act natural "long night, sir?"

"Yea, been sorting through case files all night," he replied smoothly, then motioned to the boys, "The evidence room is right this way if you want to see what we found."

"That'd be great, after you" Sam said, then shot a look at Dean that said 'we got him, we take him down here, and go out unnoticed'. Years of fighting made it so that they didn't have to speak to know what the other was thinking anymore.

"I'm surprised you boys have stayed this long for an animal attack," the Sargent called back as they made there way towards the door.

"Well you know us," Dean's voice was low and he started reaching for his gun "we like to finish what we start." The Sargent was unlocking and opening the door now.

He slipped in and the boys followed. The second they stepped in the room, a voice cynically responded "Me too", and he door slammed shut behind them. Sam and Dean had been expecting to catch him off guard, not the other way around. They couldn't see anything in the dark so they stayed put with there guns cocked and ready.

"So _cute_, you really think you can kill me? _Let alone fool me_? I'v been around for ages" the Sargent mocked.

"Show your damn face" Dean spat. The voice sounded like it was coming in all directions and he couldn't tell where to shoot.

"How about," a sharp pain spread through Dean's back and he clenched his jaw as he collapsed to the ground. "No.", the beast hissed.


	3. Chapter 3: Bad Company

**Chapter 3: Bad Company**

'What the fuck happened' Dean thought, he blinked, trying to get a picture of his surroundings. 'It's dark so I guess its still Thursday.' His back was against Sam's. He tried to move but his limbs were bound tightly. "Fuck" he muttered, He could feel Sam start to wake up behind him. "Sammy!? You ok?" he urgently whispered into the darkness. "Yea, think so" Sam sounded drowsy and weak.

He could see clearly now, they were in a dense part of the forest. They were sitting on the floor, tied up together, back to back. Dean did a mental check of his weapons but he couldn't feel any on him 'except, wait!' the creature had missed the small knife he kept in his sleeve, perfect, he has made do with less. "I'm going to get us outta here, just stay with me Sammy" He started working relentlessly at the ropes. It seemed they were alone but the thing could be back any second. He had just finished cutting his legs loose when he heard the rustling of leaves. He hid the cut edges under his ankles, settled back, then grabbed the lose ends of the ropes and tightened them around his hands to make it look like he was still restrained. He slid the knife into Sam's hands; Sam didn't have to be told to know what Dean's plan was. If they had any chance of getting out alive they would have to take it by surprise.

"Oh good, you're awake." The creature crept over to them and started circling "This Is always my favorite part" he raised his hand to Dean's forehead. Dean wasn't in a good position to attack, so he braced himself, not knowing what to expect. A light filled his mind, memories raced through his mind a thousand miles per hour. It was everything he kept under lock and key, it was if the light pushed them out of the shadows. First it was his dad and how he was nothing but a disappointment from the beginning, then Adam, then Sam, and every face, every _soul _he couldn't save. Jo, Ellen, Bobby, the list just kept going, god help him, it just kept going. He could feel tears rolling off his cheeks. Every promise of safety, every "its going to be ok", burning through him. Then came Hell. He could see the blood pooling around his body, the pain consuming him. He could hear his broken "yes"; he could hear the screams of his victims. Cutting them open, seeing the nerves and bone, and feeling nothing. But it was worse than that, because he didn't feel nothing, it felt good, he fed off their pain and anguish. He lost a part of himself in there and he knew it. His thoughts came to newer wounds, to forcing that angel on his brother…the angel that killed Kevin.

The weight in his hands was now forcing him away for the weight in his heart. His body went into autopilot. The creature was not hovering over him so Dean took his chance and thrust the knife forward, driving it into the creature's stomach. Sam jumped up on queue and rushed for the nearby weapons that the creature had confiscated. The creature didn't even flinch; it focused on Dean. It took his hand away from Dean's forehead and moved towards his neck. He wrapped his hand around it, digging his claws in. "Oh, please, you must have known it wasn't going to be that easy" he said while lifting Dean up slightly by his neck. Dean was clawing at its hand, desperate for air. Just as black dots began to skew his vision, Sam was behind the Aswang and sliced its head off before it could react. It collapsed onto its knees then hit the floor. Dean was coughing and rubbing his neck "Why couldn't have been the hot chick". Sam had his shoulders slumped and was panting…he wasn't amused.

Sam had been running on adrenaline but the blow to his head and Aswang's poison began to take its toll. He was now leaning on tree for stability.

"Sammy!" Dean said urgently as he saw his brother falling, "I'm going to get us home, just stay awake for me, ok?"

Sam groaned back as a reply.

Dean draped his arm around his own shoulder and positioned himself so that he would be carrying most of Sam's weight.

As they walked, Sam slowly started gaining control of his footing. He unwrapped himself Dean as soon as he could.

"Sam, no, wait!" Dean warned as Sam moved away.

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam barked. He was using the branches as support.

"God-dammit, Sam, just let me help you."

"No, Dean, you can't just keep doing this! You think you're indestructible but your not! I have to keep saving your ass! You keep blaming yourself for everything and saying sorry but why don't you just stop thinking about yourself and doing things you have to apologize for in the first place?!"

"…Sam"

"No…just", his voice softened, defeated, "-just forget it, Dean."

They made there way back, they found Dean's car, and drove back in silence.

* * *

Dean shouldn't have just assumed that Sam would get over it. He knew Sam was stubborn, mad, and rightfully so. Somewhere inside of him had just hoped, I guess. He plopped down on his bed, put his headphones on, and turned up the volume. Maybe he can't drown out his problems with music, but he sure as hell was going to try.

[Season 9, Episode 14, Captives]


End file.
